


Gender

by themadmage



Series: WTJWD-verse [8]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Depression, Gen, Gender Confusion, Gender Dysphoria, Gender Identity, Gender Issues, Genderfluid Character, Hopeful Ending, I am projecting my own gender issues onto Blaise Zabini, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Intense, Nonbinary Character, POV Blaise Zabini, POV First Person, i wrote this as therapy, mention of genitals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-19
Updated: 2018-07-19
Packaged: 2019-06-12 21:23:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15349038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themadmage/pseuds/themadmage
Summary: Blaise's internal struggles with their gender. This is a follow up on that tag "I am projecting my own gender issues onto Blaise Zabini" from Book 2.Fair warning that I'm writing this to help myself out of a spiral of anxiety and dysphoria, so that will feature heavily in this fic.





	Gender

I don't feel right.

I close my eyes and picture myself looking differently -in my hips, my shoulders, my chin, my feet, my hair. Some of the tension I'm carrying in my shoulders relaxes, but it is replaced by a deep longing. I could cry. I could scream. I could scratch at my too-tight skin until it bleeds. None of it would help. 

My body doesn't feel right.

I don't know what would feel exactly right. Today, I think it would be the complete opposite of what I was born with. Breasts, a narrow waist, wide hips, dainty feet, a pointed chin. Some days I'm not sure if I would want that, but today I do. Some days I feel hyper-masculine, and my choices reflect that. Most days, I think my ideal body would be somewhere between "male" and "female".

My thoughts don't feel right.

I don't know how to describe myself, even in my own head. "Boy" makes me cringe, though I'm accustomed to it enough to stomach the discomfort quietly. A day like today makes me want to shout from the rooftops that I'm a girl, but again that doesn't always seem to fit. Is there something between male and female to call myself? I don't know the answer and I don't know where to find it. 

I don't feel right. I don't feel right. I don't feel right.

 

I'm irritable. I snapped at my friends today when they were only trying to help. I feel awful about it but I can't bring myself to apologize. For now, they are acting like it didn't happen as a courtesy to my mood, and I need them to keep acting that way. If they ask what's wrong I cannot tell them. 

I cannot even describe the problem to myself other than that I don't feel right. If I said that they would send me to Pomfrey. She cannot help me. I don't expect any of them to understand what is happening inside me that makes me hate my body so much. Something is wrong with me that I've never heard of before.

I just don't feel right.

 

I often wonder if I would feel more right if I transfigured myself a body that fit what I want. I have to remind myself occasionally that I don't know enough transfiguration to do that. I also have to remind myself that injuring myself transfiguring my genitals would be a bad thing. Less often, I consider trying it anyway. Surely, it might feel more right? I resist the temptation. 

I don't feel right.

 

I'm low. I've started distancing myself from my friends, partly because I don't want to lash out at them and partly because existing in a constant state of wrongness is so tiring that I don't have the energy to socialize and do homework. I'm sleeping more. In dreams, I sometimes have a body I can feel comfortable with. I wake up tired, but at least I am not tired while I sleep. And if I sometimes wake up with tears soaking my pillow, no one knows. 

I don't feel right. 

 

In the privacy of my bed, I try on a skirt and blouse that I bribed the house elves to bring me from thr laundry. I feel better in it, but I wish I filled it out. I practice some of the cosmetic charms Mother uses. I feel better, but I wish the shape of my face was more like hers. I want to learn a hair lengthening charm, but I can think of no plausible reason to give for studying it, and I would also need to learn a hair cutting charm before I could try it.

I don't feel right. 

 

I read the book from Harry. It helps to know that I am not alone in feeling so wrong, but it does not fix anything. The book has so many terms that I don't know how to tell which fits me. Agender, genderfluid, genderqueer, nonbinary, transgender, and on. How can I know, when the experience is different for everyone? The book says that what is most important is that it feels right. The words "feels right" ring in my brain, because I don't. 

I don't feel right. 

 

I bolster myself with the knowledge from the book, and with the support offered by Harry and his mother. I am able to be less irritable, less down, to reconnect somewhat with my friends. They welcome me back, of course. I missed them. Still, while I work to figure myself out nothing has changed.

I still don't feel right. 

 

I tell Mother during the Christmas holidays. It is difficult, more difficult than telling Harry. I would have been devastated if I had lost Harry's friendship, but I would have survived. I have known him barely a year. Mother's rejection would burn me to my core. 

I am lucky. Mother sweeps me into a tight hug in a show of emotion she only allows in private. She tells me she has only ever wanted me to feel safe, happy, loved. Right. 

Mother buys me an assortment of witches' clothes of my own. They are perfectly tailored to accentuate my hips and waist in the way I want. She buys me something called a breastform that will give me the appearance of a small but girlish chest, and some girl's style pants that will accommodate my body. I am sure they came from a Muggle store, and the fact that she ventures into such an unfamiliar world to do this for me. She charms the breastform with a sticking charm so it will not slip within my shirt. She teaches me the hair lengthening and cutting charms, and helps me practice them until I can do both reliably. She buys me another book, written more recently with more detail. She tells me I can see a proper Healer or change my name any time that I want. 

I smile and say not yet, but I attend dinner that night in a casual gown, all of the new underthings in place, my hair lengthened to my shoulders and twisted back in a knot. 

I start to feel right.

 

I read the new book. It introduces even more terms, leaving me confused. It also talks more about pronouns, especially gender neutral ones. 

They. 

I try it out on my own, first. "They" is awkward at first, but comfortable in the same way as the gown. 

I ask Mother to call me by they and them pronouns. She makes one or two mistakes during dinner that day, but I can tell she is trying. I forgive her mistakes, because sometimes I make the same ones. They is a new word for me, and both of us are accustomed to he, even though it made me unhappy. Each time Mother successfully calls me by my new pronouns, my heart swells.

I feel right.

 

I think I am genderfluid. I have also thought about agender, and nonbinary. I am still not completely sure, but I am more sure than I have ever been before.

I feel right. 

 

Today, I will wear the women's underthings with my trousers. A plain blouse that resembles a boy's shirt, but with space for the breastform. My hair lengthened to my chin and hanging loose. I look in the mirror and smile more easily than I have in a long time.

I know this path will not always be easy, but it is the only one I can take. 

I feel right. I feel right. I feel right.


End file.
